Not Exactly
by Aussie73
Summary: After her return to the SGC, Sam Carter thinks about what has changed in her life. Season 9 spoilers. Sam & Jack. One shot.


_Beware! Season 9 spoilers! I came across this spoiler on the SJFic Yahoo Group and it filled my shippy heart with hope._

* * *

"So … you're single again?" Agent Barrett looked at Sam hopefully. 

She shrugged her shoulders and gave an enigmatic smile. "Not exactly," she replied.

* * *

One month earlier

Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter shifted on the uncomfortable lab stool and sighed. Her eyes burned from staring at her lap top too long and she desperately needed coffee. She eased herself slowly off the stool and dug her fists into her painfully-knotted lower back. God … she sure as hell wasn't twenty anymore.

"Didn't I _order_ you to get a life, Carter?"

Wow; déjà vu. Carter started and her back protested. Standing there, arms folded and leaning against the open doorway was none other than her former commanding officer, _Major_ General Jack O'Neill.

"Sir!" she said, trying her hardest not to gape at him. It had been a couple months since he'd left the SGC and she'd transferred to Area 51, and it seemed she'd forgotten just how damn … good the man could look.

Always tall and powerful, he appeared to have lost a little weight since his move to DC and some of the pervasive weariness had left his face. For a man pushing fifty, he looked … really, _really_ great. Sam wondered if that had something to do with the number of times the man had been in a sarcophagus.

After all, no guy in his late forties should have such a nice broad chest and flat stomach. _Sam; you're drooling!_

He gave her an abashed grin. "Carter; you've seen me in Class A's before," he said.

"Yes, sir," she said, her eyes moving automatically to the pair of silver stars on each epaulette. _Major_ General …

"Heard you were pulling another all-nighter," the General said. "I'm ordering you outta here, Carter." She opened her mouth to protest and his hand shot up. "A-ah! I may not be your CO anymore, but I still outrank you." He gave her a now cheeky grin, the one he gave to Tok'ra he'd just pissed off or superiors on whom he'd pulled a fast one. "By a _lot_, Colonel."

Sam sighed, knowing that he would just hang around and bug her until she left. And Jack O'Neill had always been very good at hanging round and bugging her. For all his height, his years and his downright heroism, he could be such a child. "Yes, sir," she said, taking off her lab coat and pulling on her leather jacket.

"And … just to make sure." The General went swiftly over to her lap top and typed rapidly into it. It blinked out.

"Sir?" What the hell had he done?

"Don't worry, Carter," he said. "It's not dead … just not available to you. I'll give you the passwords in forty eight hours."

"Sir … I can break most encryptions known to man," she reminded him. She was damn good at what she did.

He shrugged broad shoulders, hugged so nicely by his jacket. "Yeah; binary encryptions," he replied. "What makes you think this is binary?" He gestured to the lap top. "Have a go, Colonel."

She went to the lap top, still fuming, and tapped rapidly. Then looked at the codes scrolling across the screen. "Sir … this is hexadecimal code," she said.

"Yep." Now he wore a shit-eating grin. He tapped the side of his head. "C'mon, Carter! You're a genius, for cryin' out loud! You really think I'm as dumb as I act?"

She was still shocked. "I never did, sir, but … hexadecimal?" She closed the lap top with a sigh, knowing that he'd out-maneuvered her. Then she put her hands on her hips and looked at him thoughtfully. "You know, we could do with you here if you're _this_ good with computers." _Hah! Chew on that one, Major General!_, she thought maliciously.

"A-ah!" The General got a pained look on his face. "The land of the geeks! No thanks." He looked at her and … smiled. "Not that you're a geek. Well …" — he thought on that one — "you _are_, actually. But in a hot way."

She coughed. "What?"

"Yeah," he offered casually, sliding his hands into his front pockets. Then he gave an embarrassed cough. "So … wanna get out of here before I say something _else_ stupid?"

She smiled. He could be childish, impatient, arrogant and annoying as hell. But when he got that "Aw, shucks" look on his face, he was so cute. And how a six-two Special Forces-trained two-star General in the Air Force managed to be cute was anyone's guess. But Jack O'Neill managed it. "Okay, sir," she said.

* * *

Sam sat in the lobby of the five-star hotel the General was staying at while he was visiting Area 51, trying not to gape at the opulence. Seems the Pentagon did well by its Generals. Somehow, he'd managed to get her out of her lab, away from the site, and she was now waiting for him to change into civvies so they could go for a drink together. 

"Hey, there." A man several years her junior sat down. "This seat taken?"

Highly original. "Would it matter if it were?" Sam inquired.

The young man gave her a grin. "So … babe" — he called her _babe_! — "fancy painting the town red?"

"I'm busy tonight," Sam said, fighting down a grin. "Besides, I don't go out with strangers."

"Well, that's easily remedied." The young man put his hand into his pocket and passed her a photo ID. "Captain Tom Waters, US Air Force, Nellis AFB." He gave her a charming smile. "And you would be …?"

_Carter; you are so evil!_ She produced her own ID and slid it across to him. "_Lieutenant Colonel_ Samantha Carter, US Air Force, Area 51."

The young man gulped. "Sir!" he said, shooting upward.

"At ease, Captain," Sam said, trying to hide her smile. _Evil._

"Captain; Colonel," a familiar voice drawled.

Sam thought the poor young Captain was about to die. "General O'Neill!" he said, saluting.

The General returned the salute. "Lose the salute, Waters; we're off duty here," he said. Then he turned to Sam. "Let's eat!" he said.

"Yes, sir," she replied, looking him over thoughtfully. Dressed in simple charcoal pants and a soft black v-neck sweater, he should have looked quite … ordinary. But the way those pants emphasized his long legs and the sweater hugged his torso was quite sinful.

And by the interested stares he garnered from several of the women in the elegant lobby, it seemed she wasn't the only one who thought so.

* * *

Sam sat back and pushed her plate away with a contented sigh. She hadn't realized just how hungry she was, until the General had found this 24-7 steak house and insisted that she get some meat on her bones. "Oh, that was good," she said. 

The right side of his mouth tipped upward in a small smile. "Told ya," he said.

Sam couldn't resist returning the smile. The last couple hours had been great. Considering they had little in common except the last eight years — which they couldn't even discuss in public — they'd found plenty to talk about, and had learned new things about each other. She knew of his love for all things Simpsons, of course, but she'd not known about his long-standing 'thing' for Mary Steenburgen.

Then they started talking in very veiled terms about some of their more amusing missions. Or amusing in hindsight. At the time, Urgo had been one annoying pain in the ass who'd made Sam gain three pounds in less than a week.

"Really?" The General looked over at her. "Can't say I noticed, Carter," he offered. "Guys don't tend to notice things like that."

Sam shrugged, not wanting to mention that she'd actually lost ten pounds while trying to bring him back from Edora. Janet had fussed enough at the time and she didn't want the then-Colonel to feel guilty. It wasn't like he'd _chosen_ to be stranded there for three months! "Guess not, sir," she replied.

"Carter … it's oh one hundred, we've stuffed our faces with steak and pie, and I'm not your CO anymore. Can ya possibly lose the 'sir'?"

She looked at him narrowly. Was he whining? She smiled slightly. "Of course, _General_," she said.

"Carter …," he warned silkily.

"Fine." She gave in. "But you have to call me Sam, not Carter."

* * *

"Sam." Jack suddenly took her hand and brought it up to his lips. "Thanks for keeping an old fly-boy company tonight." 

Nice lips. Soft lips. Soft lips that she dimly recalled from when she'd jumped him in the locker room years ago. "You're welcome," she said, touched at the old world gesture. "How very … gallant."

His brown eyes twinkled. _Could_ eyes as dark as his twinkle? Evidently so. "What can I say, Carter? Generation gap, ya know!"

"_Sir_; you're not that much older than me."

"Near as dammit," he said.

"You're not," she insisted. What was this thing Jack had about his age? Yes, he was older than her, but he was amazingly sexy. Perpetually sticking-up silver hair, chocolate brown eyes and a really hot body … Yum. "I had a good time tonight," she said. "You want to go out again tomorrow?"

"With you?"

She resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. For a two-star General who understood hexadecimal programming, he could be pretty slow at times. "Well, yes; with me," she said. "Seeing as an overbearing former CO of mine has locked out my computer, it seems I've got some free time on my hands."

He gave her a smile. "Sounds like a jerk," he said.

"He can be sometimes, especially to people he doesn't like," she said. "But he's brave, loyal, passionate and caring. And a hero."

A flush crawled up his cheekbones. "Ah, cut it out, Carter," he grumbled. "I'm not a damn hero. Just a regular guy doing my job."

Sam knew better than to pursue this. Despite his cockiness, his self-assured approach to life, Jack O'Neill had never learned how to take praise. And that was good. It stopped him from developing the ego one often got with high-ranking military officers. And made him that much more accessible to the lower ranks. After all, how many technical sergeants put their CO into their will?

She shook her head. "You'll never be a regular guy," she said fondly. "And I wouldn't want you that way." She put her hand to his cheek and drew his mouth to hers. It was a brief light kiss, but full of passion and promise. "So … tomorrow night?" she added, reveling in the kiss like a teenager.

"Pick you up at seven at your apartment?" he replied.

She smiled. "Make it seven thirty," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied. "By the way, Carter …".

"Yes, sir?" she inquired. Old habits die hard.

Her breath left her with a whoosh when his hard arms came around her waist and shoulders and he drew her up against him. "_This_ is a goodnight kiss," he said. Then he dipped his head and took her lips passionately.

Boy, could this man kiss! He exerted just the right pressure so that his teeth weren't mashing her lips and was tugging at her bottom lip with his own, seeking entrance. That was an unspoken order with which she was happy to comply.

And when she woke up the next morning with a certain two-star General fingering chevron symbols on her bare stomach, she realized that he was equally as good at taking orders as giving them.

* * *

Present

"So … you're single again?" Agent Barrett looked at Sam hopefully.

She shrugged her shoulders and gave an enigmatic smile. "Not exactly," she replied. Then she thought about the previous weekend — before she'd gotten called back to the SGC. One very hot weekend. The man had stamina and she could now categorically state that all those times in the sarcophagus had altered him.

Not exactly single? Make that … hell, no way!

* * *

_Coming into Season 9, I reckon Jack O'Neill's age to be 48 or 49. In 'Brief Candle', he told Kynthia that he was forty. Although eight years have passed between Seasons 1 and 9, there were at least three episodes that I can remember off the top of my head that spanned three months A Hundred Days, Window Of Opportunity and Icon. That's why I don't try to pin his age down to an exact number._


End file.
